28 Days Later
by sangreal7
Summary: After the events in Demonology, Rossi and Prentiss face the growing changes in their relationship. Written for the Chit Chat on Author's Corner - Fanfic Challenge 2010 - Round 2.
1. 7 Days Later

**A/N: This story is written for the Chit Chat on Author's Corner Fanfic Challenge 2010 – Round 2.**

**Pairing: Rossi/Prentiss**

**Prompt: 28 Days Later (Movie Title)**

**The story is set shortly after the events in Demonology.**

**This was truly a challenge for me, as I'm quite new to writing on the whole and have never even tried writing any pairing except the one I'm comfortable with (M/G). That this turned into a four-chapter story totally surprised me. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of Criminal Minds. I'm just playing a little :)**

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**CHAPTER 1 : 7 Days Later**

When he had chosen to do everything he could to help Emily Prentiss find the man who had murdered her friend, going so far as to challenge their Unit Chief, David Rossi told himself that he was just being a good colleague.

He told himself that it was for the good of the team that he had disobeyed Hotch and taken Prentiss to visit Matthew Benton's parents. For if any member of the team was troubled, it affected their whole dynamic, and they couldn't afford that.

He told himself that he was only disappointed that she eschewed his offer of a ride in favor of walking because he was worried about her getting home in the cold, snowy night.

He told himself these things over and over. Of course, he was completely lying to himself, but hey, no one had to know, right?

One thing was certainly true however. When he had done all those things for her, regardless of justification, he had never expected what happened after the events of that disturbing non-case were over.

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Seven days later, after he had left Emily to walk alone in the snow-filled night, Rossi answered a knock at the door of his Little Creek home to find her standing on his doorstep.

"Prentiss?" His surprise was evident in his tone, and in the fact that he made her name into a question, though he could clearly see it was her. He hadn't even known that she knew how to get to his home. "How … "

Emily didn't let him finish. "Garcia … and GPS." She grinned at him almost bashfully as she shifted her weight nervously from one jeans-clad leg to the other.

"Ah … right." He was still a little too bemused to be articulate, despite being a man to whom words came easily.

When he didn't say anything else, Emily spoke again.

"Um … Rossi? Can I come in? It's sorta cold out here."

"What? Oh! Oh, sorry Prentiss." The minor paralysis that seemed to have overtaken him was broken. "Yes, come in. Please."

He stepped back to allow her into the room and then closed the door behind her. When Emily shrugged out of her coat, he moved to take it and hang it on the rack next to the door. As she took in her surroundings, Rossi took her in. Along with the well-fitting dark jeans, she wore black low-heeled boots and a kelly-green sweater that made her eyes look even darker. It clung lovingly to parts of her anatomy that he had absolutely no business thinking about, far less ogling.

_Snap out of it man!_ He admonished himself silently. _ Unless you want to totally sell yourself out. You're acting as if you've forgotten she's a profiler, and a good one at that._

Having taken in the cozy front room, with its heavy wooden furniture, blazing fireplace complete with sleeping hunting dog on a mat before it, Emily turned back to Rossi.

"This is a wonderful room. It suits you."

"Thank you." He couldn't think of anything else to say. That her presence in his home was distracting him was patently clear, but the question of why exactly she was there made it infinitely worse. And she was clearly nervous herself, still shifting from one foot to the other edgily and looking everywhere but straight at him.

"Prentiss … Emily," he began, but before he could say another word, she had taken two steps closer to him. Then to his utter shock, Emily Prentiss, his colleague and star of his every fantasy for a long time now, brought both her hands up to grasp his face, closed her eyes and pressed her mouth against his own, kissing him hard.

There was no possible chance that he would be capable of _not_ responding to her. Lifting his hands to rest lightly at her waist, he kissed her back. He moved to deepen the kiss and felt immeasurably gratified when Emily opened her mouth under his and met his questing tongue eagerly with her own.

_Why?_ The silent question intruded on what was fast becoming the best kiss of his life. Rossi tried his damnedest to ignore it and concentrate instead on the feel of Emily in his arms kissing him senseless. It wasn't to be. The stupid question became a litany running through his head – _whywhywhywhywhy_ – and it could no longer be ignored.

Reluctantly he broke the kiss, lifting his face away from hers gently. Still holding her, he waited until she opened her eyes and looked at him.

"Emily, Cara, what is it? What's caused this?"

Both his tone and look were tender, and strangely, Emily felt no embarrassment over what she had done. Still, she moved out of his arms and took a couple of steps away from him, turning to the fireplace and wrapping her arms around her middle. She was silent for a short while. He waited.

"I'm still so damn angry with both of them!" The exclamation, when it came, was harsh and resounded with pain.

He understood immediately. "Hotch and Morgan."

"Yeah." She answered without turning around.

"You feel like they didn't support you. Didn't have your back when they should have – from the very beginning when you first went to Hotch."

She nodded wordlessly. It still amazed her how this man could apparently see right through her.

"Yes. It doesn't matter how irrational that thinking is. I still _feel_ it."

He walked over to her and wrapped his arms loosely around her. When he spoke, it was in the same tender tone he had used before.

"Not that I'm not extremely flattered, Cara, but I don't think that's the best reason in the world for this is it?"

"No, I guess not."

"Want to talk instead?"

"I'm sorry Rossi. I think I should go." She slipped out of his arms for a second time and turned to face him, a question in her expressive eyes. Once again, he knew.

"Yes, Emily. We're okay."

She smiled a grateful smile at him and left as silently as she had arrived.

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A/N: So totally out of my element here! Would really appreciate knowing what you think.  
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	2. 14 Days Later

**A/N: This story is written for the Chit Chat on Author's Corner Fanfic Challenge 2010 – Round 2.**

**Pairing: Rossi/Prentiss**

**Prompt: 28 Days Later (Movie Title)**

**The story is set shortly after the events in Demonology.**

**Thank you all for your great response to this stor****y! The reviews, alerts and favorites really made my day.  
**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of Criminal Minds. I'm just playing a little :)**

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**Chapter 2 - 14 Days Later**

She couldn't get the events of that night out of her mind. No matter how hard she tried to block it out, she still saw John Cooley tied to that bed with that horrible man – she couldn't call him a priest in the quiet of her own mind – bending over him, _torturing_ him … all in the name of perverted religion.

It was now fourteen days later, but the events were still there, an endless film reel on autoplay. She was sure that that was part of the reason she had ignored the couple of attempts John had made to get in touch with her after that night. She just couldn't deal with seeing him, afraid that all her horror would be laid bare for him to see. She also couldn't handle seeing John because she was afraid that she'd look at him and he would see in her face her wish that it was Matthew who had lived. Instead.

Emily Prentiss sat alone at the far end of the dimly lit bar. She'd arrived alone, begging off JJ and Garcia's 'Girls Night In'. She intended to leave alone too. This was not a night for picking someone up. She was in no mood to play nice with anyone, and anyone that she met in a bar that she _wouldn't_ have to play nice with before she went home with them was just a little more danger than she was willing to deal with tonight. She might be screwed up right now, but she wasn't stupid.

Apparently her intentions were very clearly written on her scowling face and in her tensed posture. No one had even _attempted _to pick her up tonight. That was essentially a very, very good thing. If she actually had to say the words _'Fuck off'_ tonight, she would quite probably get herself arrested – and dealing with Hotch at all these days was a pain. Having to call him from a jail cell would suck … in a really bad way.

A few more minutes of solitary drinking later, Prentiss looked up and caught the eye of the female bartender. She tilted her almost empty glass in the woman's direction and was rewarded with a thumbs-up and a perky grin. By the time Prentiss was looking into the bottom of her glass, the vivacious little brunette bartender was there with her fresh drink. Prentiss eyed the other woman speculatively as the latter collected the empty glass and wiped down the bar.

The girl – Candy, according to her nametag, though it most likely wasn't even her real name – looked barely old enough to drink, much less to tend bar. Still, she was cute … and rather hot in her black leather shorts and vest outfit. Prentiss bet herself that the girl was wearing boots at least knee high, black to complement the outfit. She'd check it out when the girl walked away. She'd probably look damn good in the boots alone.

When she realized the direction in which her thoughts were heading, Emily knew that she was on her last drink of the night. Definitely. Not that she had a problem picking up a woman – she didn't. She was comfortably bisexual, though she tended more towards men, and a woman might have been a better choice for tonight anyway.

It wasn't that at all. It was the fact that if she was drunk enough to still contemplate a random hook up on a night when she _knew_ she was so not in the place for that, then she needed to get out of there before she screwed up royally and got herself into some real trouble.

She paid her tab and left the bar. The six drinks of scotch she'd had certainly didn't show in her walk as she made a beeline for the exit. She had had Candy call her a cab, which should be waiting outside. Knowing that she had planned to get plastered tonight, she hadn't bothered to drive.

She wasn't in any mood to go home yet though. It was too early. While she might have been too drunk to make smart decisions, she wasn't drunk enough to crash and sleep off the rotten feeling. Before she could analyze, or worse yet, second guess her decision, she gave the cab driver an address and leaned back, determined not to think for the duration of the ride.

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For the second straight Friday night, David Rossi answered a knock at his door to find Emily Prentiss standing on his doorstep. Two things were different tonight though. The first was that from the taillights disappearing down the driveway, she'd taken a cab instead of driving herself. The second was that, unless he'd lost all ability as a profiler, and general observer of people, Prentiss was – just a little – drunk.

It was the look on her face that caught at his heart however. She was trying for her tough, FBI Agent, don't fuck with me look, but was failing miserably. The thing was, he wasn't sure she knew it.

Wordlessly, he stepped back to allow her in, taking her jacket again in a weird replay of a week ago. This time however, she didn't bother to look at the room, so was staring directly at him when he turned from hanging up her coat. The white button down shirt she wore with her jeans made her look vulnerable – innocent almost. A look that was unusual for the normally in-control Emily Prentiss.

As he watched, her hands went to the top button of the shirt and she began to undo it. The action caused him to jump and set off two simultaneous reactions – a pounding in his chest and a tightening in his groin.

"Emily …"

"Don't 'Emily' me." Her hands stilled on the second button, but she didn't move them.

Rossi took the few steps necessary for him to stand in front of her. He reached up and took her hands in his, bringing them down, away from her shirt buttons. His tenderness brought the tears unbidden to her eyes. When she spoke, her voice was low and defenseless and she could not meet his eyes.

"Please, David. It's more than just needing human contact. I just need to feel safe tonight."

"I make you feel safe?" Rossi was astounded. Of everything she could have said, he didn't expect that.

The evident surprise in his gravelly voice made her look up, and she blushed then, at the distinct heat in his dark eyes.

"Always." She shrugged her shoulders as she spoke, but he knew the response was anything but casual.

It was a lost cause anyway, he knew that. There was nothing he could refuse Emily Prentiss. She had his heart firmly in her grasp, even though she had no idea. It didn't matter that all she wanted was this one night, while he could easily ask for forever. Nothing mattered but that she needed something and he could provide it.

He released her hands as he said quietly, looking directly into her eyes.

"In that case, Cara Mia, allow me." He raised his hands to her shirt to finish the job.

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**A/N: Would really love to know what you all think.  
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	3. 21 Days Later

**A/N: This story is written for the Chit Chat on Author's Corner Fanfic Challenge 2010 – Round 2.**

**Pairing: Rossi/Prentiss**

**Prompt: 28 Days Later (Movie Title)**

**The story is set shortly after the events in Demonology.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of Criminal Minds. I'm just playing a little :)**

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**Chapter 3 - 21 Days Later**

The conference centre ballroom was ablaze with the lights from what seemed to be a hundred electric chandeliers. David Rossi circled the room slowly, stopping to chat with several people whom he knew. For every one of these however, five more strangers stopped him to talk about his career, or his latest book, or his speaking engagements. It had only been an hour, but it was shaping up to be a long night. Why his editor felt he needed to be here was beyond him.

Rossi's attention was caught by an imperious looking woman standing with a group of people a few feet away. It was when he realized he recognized her, and his every sense went on instant alert, that he understood exactly how long this night would prove to be. The woman holding court, in the silvery gray floor length gown, currently surrounded by several of the movers and shakers of D. C. politics was Ambassador Elizabeth Prentiss.

Her presence could only mean that sooner or later, he would come face to face with her daughter. In the very instant that he wondered whether he could leave immediately and so escape the pain fate had in store for him, he saw that it was too late. Emily Prentiss was making her way across the room, heading in the general direction of her mother.

She hadn't spotted him yet, and before she did, he took the opportunity to look his fill. A blood red off-the-shoulder dress clung to her like a second skin, making him remember exactly how that skin had felt under his hands. He shifted uncomfortably. He couldn't afford to be walking around with a hard-on, because his black dress slacks wouldn't be able to hide a thing. He bit the inside of his mouth hard as he tried to redirect his thoughts.

In the very next second, he no longer had the problem. That was because he had just noticed Emily's escort.

_Damn_, he thought. _Twenty-one days later, and it seemed he still couldn't escape the reminders of that blasted night._

Emily Prentiss' escort was none other than John Cooley.

Rossi had to get out of the room. Now, before she saw him. He could hardly bear to think of her with another man, far less _that_ man. Not when he knew what Cooley had done to her when she was just a teenager. Maybe Emily could forgive him, but Rossi sure as hell could not.

When she had told him that she couldn't accompany him tonight because she was expected at one of her mother's charity events, he could not possibly have connected it to the same dog-and-pony show his editor had wanted to parade him around. He hadn't even asked Emily about it, giving them no chance to realize that they were talking about the same event. It was so stupid. He could have been the one by her side. It was too damn much.

Rossi excused himself from the group of whose last ten minutes of chatter he had heard nothing. He prepared to walk past the Ambassador's group, which unfortunately was squarely between him and the nearest exit. As he debated taking the coward's way out by circling the room to find another exit, Emily chose that moment to look up from something her escort was saying to her. Immediately, her eyes locked with Rossi's, and they widened dramatically.

He could see she was about to come over to him, but he just couldn't bear it. There was no bad feeling between them from the night they had spent together, but Rossi just couldn't handle seeing her here, now, with another man at her side. He threw her an apologetic glance, and in that crazy, silent communication which seemed to exist between them, he saw understanding cross her face. She turned away and let him leave.

There was no one he had to tell he was leaving. He had come alone, wishing only for one woman to be with him. Retrieving his car from the valet, he drove out of the city, heading home, alone with his memories.

Now that he was alone, he could not stop thinking about last Friday night. Making love to Emily was the most perfect experience of his life. Rossi was no saint, and his legendary reputation was based for the most part in fact. He wasn't ashamed of it. He had always loved women – his Italian heritage, probably. He had prided himself on two things – he'd never left a woman unsatisfied, and he had never cheated on a woman. Whether or not she was his wife at the time.

For all his experience, however, Emily caught him totally off guard. She had said she wanted comfort, safety. It made him think that he would be gentle with her. It hadn't worked out that way.

Emily had watched him undo all the buttons of her shirt, tugging it out of her jeans to get at the last ones. When he was done and was pushing it off her shoulders, she had reached between them and popped open the front clasp of her bra. The creamy color had almost matched her skin tone and made the pressure in his jeans damn near unbearable. With the shirt hanging off her arms, and her bra undone but not off, she was the most stunning woman he had ever seen.

He had told her so, and was rewarded with her beautiful smile. He'd drawn her into his arms and their kisses quickly became consumed by passion. Sweeping her into his arms he'd taken her into his bedroom and laid her in the center of his bed. For the whole of that incredible night David Rossi made love with the woman who was without a doubt the last love of his life.

Knowing that the one night was all that she wanted made the experience bittersweet, but he would not have traded it for anything. When she had cried out his name at the height of her pleasure, the sound had triggered his own completion. Afterward, he had held her through the night as she slept, murmuring words of love into her hair.

When she left the next morning, in the cab she insisted he call for her, she had no way of knowing she was taking his heart with her.


	4. 28 Days Later

**A/N: This story is written for the Chit Chat on Author's Corner Fanfic Challenge 2010 – Round 2.**

**Pairing: Rossi/Prentiss**

**Prompt: 28 Days Later (Movie Title)**

**The story is set shortly after the events in Demonology.**

**Well, here we have it - the end of my little challenge fic. Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews. I get the feeling I'll be working with this pairing again. I truly enjoyed it.  
**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of Criminal Minds. I'm just playing a little :)**

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**Chapter 4 - 28 Days Later**

Emily was thinking … again. Not a new thing lately, really. The surprise was the person who was the subject of her thoughts. In the two weeks since she had spent the night with him, she had not been able to get David Rossi out of her thoughts – or out of her fantasies.

She had gone to him looking for comfort sex, because she had needed someone, and there was no one she trusted more than him. He had put himself on the line for her, to help her find out the truth about Matthew.

At the time it hadn't surprised her that he would be willing to help. If anyone knew about deaths which haunted a person, it was David. He had known his own firsthand torments. What had surprised her was how much he had let himself become involved in her feelings and in being there for her.

When he had offered to drop her where she wanted to go that night and she had opted instead to walk for a while, she had seen an unreadable emotion flit across his face. She'd trusted him to understand though that she needed time to process all the things that had happened that night. And she did do that on her walk.

She'd also found herself thinking about how well David had seemed to know what she was trying to say before she even spoke. Twenty-eight days later, she was still amazed by his ability to know what she needed. No one had ever been able to do that before – not friend or lover.

Emily was examining the changes in herself as well. Since the night they had spent together, he was no longer 'Rossi' to her, but always, always 'David'. Never 'Dave' though; that was just too ordinary for him. She'd found herself slipping and calling him David at work, though she didn't think anyone, least of all him, had noticed.

JJ and Garcia had almost given up on getting her to go out with them anymore. She could safely account for her last two Fridays with good excuses (without the detail of sleeping with David, of course), but she had had a difficult time begging off tonight again. She really wasn't in the mood to hang out in some bar, even if it was with her girls.

There was no way around it. She wanted to be with him. Emily had no idea if he felt the same way. Maybe that night was just because she'd been there, and offering herself. No, that thought didn't feel right. David had been wonderful with her, tender and giving, even the first time when the urgency was paramount. Each time they made love that night, she had felt treasured and special. She'd never had a lover put her needs so absolutely first. Even more than that, Emily realized that she trusted David in a way she had been unable to trust someone for a very long time.

That decided it for her. Even if he wanted nothing more than what they had that one night, he at least needed to know how she felt. Even if he didn't feel the same way, they would still be friends; she'd make sure he understood that.

She hoped though. She hoped he felt the same way. Hope was in the care she took with her appearance. Hope was in the tingling in her hands as she walked up to his door. Hope was in the frantic racing of her heart as she knocked on his door once again.

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David sat in the comfortable chair by the fireplace, absentmindedly petting his dog lying next to him, while he pretended to read. The research material for his next book was fascinating stuff, but for some reason, totally incapable of keeping his attention tonight.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that on two out of the last three Friday nights, a knock on his door had changed his world. He found himself thinking instead of Emily as he had seen her last Friday, in that beautiful red dress. Inevitably it led to a fantasy of her in that same dress spread out on his bed.

When the knock did come, he ignored it, shrugging it off as wishful thinking. It was only when it came again, louder than the first time that he looked up in shock. The expression on his face was almost comical. As he rose to go to the door, the knocking came again and it seemed this time his heart was beating in time with the knocks.

Rossi opened his door and drank in the sight of the woman standing before him.

"Emily." Her name on his lips was a sigh.

"Hey David." She tried for casual, but knew he could see right through her.

In what seemed now to be routine, he stepped aside to let her into his home. Tonight she was wearing a knee length coat, belted at the waist, and her legs beneath it were bare. At least she had driven this time; she wouldn't have gotten too cold. When Emily removed the coat, her back still turned to him, David felt a shiver go all the way through him and his throat went dry, the words he was about to speak dying on his lips.

Emily wore a white dress. White, color of innocence. However, there was nothing remotely innocent about that dress. It stopped mid-thigh, and was almost completely backless. There was a ribbon that tied about her neck, but then there was nothing until just above the sweet curve of her backside.

David swallowed hard as Emily turned around to face him. It was a good thing he caught the look on her face, before his lust turned into anger. He should have known that Emily wouldn't tempt him with something he couldn't have. He reached out to take her into his arms, and she went willingly, quickly.

As his arms closed around her, David felt Emily tremble. He was unsurprised because it totally matched the vulnerable look he had seen on her face.

"Talk to me, Cara. Why did you come here tonight?"

"JJ and Garcia wanted to go out to a bar tonight. I didn't want to go." She spoke the words softly against his shoulder.

This was a different Emily from the take-charge agent. This was the woman he had had in his bed two weeks ago. The woman who could make him lose all control when she called his name. He led her gently to the sofa and sat down with her.

Cupping her face tenderly, David looked into her eyes. "What did you want to do, sweetheart?"

"I wanted this … us … I mean …" Emily trailed off, then took a deep breath, then tried again.

"I want there to be an 'us' David. I think I'm falling in love with you."

Emily watched the man she had once thought of as nearly emotionless close his eyes and inhale deeply. When he looked at her again, the adoration in his gaze almost took her own breath away.

"Emily, Tesoro, I have been falling in love with you for a very long time now."

As David drew her close to him, kissing her cheeks, her eyes, and finally her lips, he could not help but think back to the day she had walked away from him into the snow.

Twenty-eight days later, she was in his arms, where she belonged.

FIN

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**A/N: Hope you all enjoyed!  
**


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